


Memories Made

by zjass06



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, Like two sentences but still, M/M, Some parts based of Tumblr prompts, Someone teach me, Treehouse AU, growing up with Nico Di Angelo, i still need to learn how to tag, is that even a thing?, solangelo, they are so pURE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-27 18:39:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19386712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjass06/pseuds/zjass06
Summary: "Hi! I'm Will! You're my new neighbour!" the blonde boy beams; Nico frowns in turn, peering curiously at this Will."My ma' says not to talk to strangers," Nico replies as he sits himself upon the grass.Will plops himself down next to the dark haired boy, who giggles so purely it makes his smile contagious. "I'm not a stranger, I'm your neighbour! You live next to me now and we can be friends!"OrA few snippets of Nico’s life and how his friendship develops with Will, all within a much treasured treehouse.





	Memories Made

**Nico is four years old when he first meets Will.** He's sprawled out on his new lawn, summer sun beating down upon the young boy, plucking spears of crisp grass as he watches them dance away with the wind. His parents are still unloading the boxes around the house while Bianca particularly focuses on her own room, leaving the bright eyed, Italian boy to his own tidings -- soon enough being whisked into boredom just like the dandelion fluff in the warm breeze.

It's just when Nico is about to push himself off the ground and go dig around for his Mythomagic figurines when the unfamiliar boy makes his presence known. He stands over the four year old, looking down with a beaming smiling and an adorable dimple.

"Hi! I'm Will! You're my new neighbour!" the blonde boy beams; Nico frowns in turn, peering curiously at this Will.

"My ma' says not to talk to strangers," Nico replies as he sits himself upon the grass.

Will plops himself down next to the dark haired boy, who giggles so purely it makes his smile contagious. "I'm not a stranger, I'm your neighbour! You live next to me now and we can be friends!" Nico regards Will and he's cheery and bright; his hair reminds him of sunshine and his freckles look like a dusting of golden sand. He's very summer, Nico thinks, it was a lot different to what he was used to.

"Okay," Nico says because he is bored and he's eager to find out more about his new friend, "My name is Nico Di Angelo." Then he extends his shaky hand out just like his mother had told him, his mother telling him that it was the polite way to meet new people.

"Nico Di Angelo," Will repeats, meeting his grip eagerly, but the name feels unusual paired with his voice, it lacks the emphasis on the O's, something that Nico dully picks up on. "I like your name, haven't heard of it before, it's different. The way you speak is funny, but I like your voice as well."

The Italian doesn't feel offended, just mildly mystified, "But you're the one that speaks different. In Italy, everyone talks like me and nobody talks like you."

Will shrugs, reclining back on his palms; looking all too confident for a five year old ("Hah, I'm older, I'm five!") but they continue their carefree chatter until Nico's mother calls out that he comes back in the house before five minutes.

The olive skinned boy doesn't make his leave immediately, instead he looks down at his lap, fiddling with the loose threads at the hem of his red t-shirt, winding and unwinding them from his fingers.

"Will you be my best friend?" Nico musters, shy and sheepish. Even though his head is ducked, he can tell Will's grinning because he can practically feel the warmth radiating from it.

"Nico Di Angelo. My new best friend!"

**Nico is five years old when they build the treehouse.** Initially, it was Mr Solace's ("Apollo, sunny. Mr Solace makes me sound old, it's just Apollo") to have the treehouse made, and doubtless when the two young boys heard the suggestion their eyes practically glowed in enthusiasm.

Nico and Will would run to the blond's back garden every Saturday and Sunday where days were devoted into the process of construction. The Italian helped as much as he could, passing a few safer tools to Will's dad all in the while he sipped on his juice boxes. When Nico one day returns home with sawdust on his trousers, Hades catches him and the younger Italian is all too eager to explain. Next Saturday, the both of them go over to the Solace household together. Hades smiles at Apollo when he answer the door, who seems a little surprised, as he demands that he help out on this treehouse that he keeps hearing about from his enthralled son.

It takes a month or so but once it's done Will and Nico are basically in love.

"Race you to the ladder!" Nico exclaims and is already running as fast as his little legs can take him before Will is even aware of what's happening.

The Italian climbs to the top, his tongue peeking out in as a little mock to which Will returns with faux pout when he finds his way to the top too.

"Not fair, you cheated." Will states matter of factly but Nico soaks the victory anyway — it's the first time he's won against the blond.

Nico's "Is too," dies on his tongue as he takes a more thorough look inside. The planks are of generic colour and nothing is really inside the structure yet besides the two boys so it's just a hollow shell that so happens to be supported by sturdy branches underneath. Regardless though, the Italian crosses his legs in the middle of the surprising spacey room, his gaze darting of the walls as he thinks of countless ways this could all be decorated.

"We can bring the blankets from my room and put them here so it's more cozy," Will suggests, but he's clearly just in awe by the treehouse as Nico is, "And we can bring your pillows."

And they do just that, complimented with a dash good natured childhood cheekiness in their journey as they snag a few cookies from Maria's kitchen while they drag beanbags behind them.

The treehouse is far from furnished, but as they enjoy the freshly baked chocolate chip cookies upon a messy heap of blankets besides his 'bestest friend', Nico feels like there's nowhere he would rather be.

**Nico is nine years old when he cuts himself on a branch.** It happens when he makes his earnest climb up the ladder while Will's head is smiling down at him from the top. When he misplaces his foot and feels himself falling from three quarters of the way up the steps, it's a wild sprawl of panicked arms paired with the lucky grab of a branch that saves him from being flattened. The blond strikes out of the treehouse, grabs Nico's hand somehow trying to help him with his remaining steps.

There's a few tears stinging the Italian's eyes when his palm burns from it's graze. It's bleeding, yes, but it's nothing serious, merely a token of childhood memories that would be laughed back upon in the future.

"It's okay, Neeks. I can fix it," Will claims as he moves himself away from the injured Italian, digging along the recently placed shelves to allocate a bright red box with a white cross on the top.

Nico watches, hand still hurting, in somewhat fascination as Will slides open the box and pulls on a pair of too-large latex gloves over his hands. "Dad does this all the time when I get hurt, I want to be like him so he taught me how to fix these up."

The Italian is a little hesitant but that's brushed aside when he remembers that he trusts his best friend.

He stretches out his open palm and Will cradles it with surprisingly gentle hands, examining a little closely with a hum. "I need to use to the boo-boo spray," Will announces as his nimble fingers shuffle around the contents of the first aid kit until he pulls out a bottle, "It will hurt a little bit, but it's okay. It will make you better."

But Nico's hand retracts just as fast as lightning. "No, I'm scared," and it's seen through his timid eyes and the hand he guards against his chest.

Will doesn't laugh like Nico thought he would, there's simply just a subtle smile stretched across his lips, "Please Neeks, I will be careful."

Not too sure why, but Nico eventually gives his grazed hand back for the blond to hold. He's only shaking a little but he also knows that Will wasn't someone to be afraid of; already he knows that Will would never hurt him. Will's his best friend, it was in the pact, they would never hurt each other.

When the antiseptic spray coats his cut it stings but Nico resists the urge to jump back. He's brave (Bianca calls him soldatino) so he fights against the pain because " _Brave people don't let pain hold them back._ "

After slapping a third and final plaster on just the minor erosion, this one having black and yellow stripes, Will grins, all too proud of his work. "All better!"

Needless to say, Bianca awwww's as soon as she sees the collage of multicoloured bandaids across Nico's overly plastered palm.

**Nico is eleven years old when his mother and sister die.** But it starts like any other day. He catches the bus cheery with Will by his side. The mindless chatter they make on the journey is actually hilarious and pretty soon Nico has to wipe hysterical tears from his eyes.

Then there's the dollar he finds on the ground, his most hated teacher being subbed after calling in sick for the first time in forever and the tater tots for lunch that Nico decides this was the best day he's had in a long while.

The strange thing happens when he's called out of fifth period, a teacher with a long, grave face as emotive as his dull, grey tie. It's maths, so he's more than inclined to follow the teacher, adding it to his cracking pot of good luck from these last 24 hours.

Mr Grey starts grim, as he has Nico sit opposing to him in the office, "Your sister, Bianca, and your mother have been caught up in a terrible accident..."

"What do you mean?" Nico replies because he cares more about these two people than he does of himself, he wants to make sure they're alright.

"They..." he hesitates, the silence drawn out a couple seconds long (though it feels like hours to Nico). "They didn't make it."

It doesn't all come crashing down on him immediately, quite frankly because he doesn't particularly know the full truth behind the term 'they didn't make it'. Of course, remorse restricts around his heart as time decides to finally let Nico understand to the full extent.

"Wh—What?" He chokes out the word that seems to be stuck as a dry morsel at the back of his throat. It's devastated; broken.

Hades shows up in no time, prim without any perfection as he looks as if he had ran ten miles to get to the principles office. Immediately, Nico notices his change in demeanour and (much like his own) Hades' dark pupils are surrounded by a grievous hue of bloodshot red emphasised with the very same disbelieving glint.

Nico has so many question during the route home; each one spoken urgently with a vastly increasing edge of concern. He's not going to let himself believe anything until he's heard it from his father. Unfortunately for him, the truth is instead revealed like a withdrawn, torturous tear of a band aid as Hades' silence serves as his only clarification.

_They're dead, they really are dead._

When they make their eventual return to their porch Nico doesn't even want to look, assaulted with such somber seeming memories like his mother waving from the doorstep or Bianca making daisy chains upon the midsummer grass. The domestic views that Nico now realises how much he had taken for granted, knowing he'll never see them again.

It's too much, it's all just _too much_. So he sprints off in the opposite direction, crossing the street with the lingering "Nico," of his fathers voice that he practically didn't even hear. He jumps over gate too quickly to be considered smooth and he's now on the Solace property, trespassing across the spans of their backyard.

When the treehouse comes into view he lunges himself at it, climbing up with a ferocious force until he finds himself twisted into a heap of blankets, not bothering to let the adolescent brightness of the fairy lights that he found himself loving to switch on. In the treehouse, he just buries his face into the smooth, worn pillows, finally allowing himself to break down, tears staining the fabric underneath.

He doesn't realise how many hours had past until there's a hesitant, "Neeks," that breaks the silence — Nico doing nothing more than trying to mend the broken pieces in his mind. "What happened, Neeks?"

Nico doesn't respond, not immediately at least, and it's because he's not sure if he wants to talk about it. He's frightened of the dejection he might face, and all the hollow holes Hades had left with his silence. Maybe he's better off dealing with it himself, even if it does feel like it's consuming him from the inside.

In spite of his lack of response though, Will still brings himself wearily adjacent to Nico and he knows the blond can feel his erratic shivering. Will does hitch a blanket up across the Italian's legs, but Nico knows it's nothing to do with the cold.

"Ma' and Bianca are dead," Nico announces, not aware of how croaky his voice is until it's out there in the open, hovering in the suffocating air. It's the first time he's admitted it aloud, and it brings an all new confirmation of the unfortunate events urging the next wave of tears.

When he feels Will tense for a split second at his side, he only then realises that he's had a lost too. It wasn't rare that Bianca and Will would talk, discuss little things like aspirations, the girl always intrigued by his dreams; telling him to go for it.

Yet, it's only for a split second because soon enough there's a shift from besides Nico. Soon enough there's comforting arms wrapping around his curled frame, drawing in close for a hug. 

Unconsciously, Nico's tiny fingers grip his best friend's shirt so tight that the cotton threatens to tear the seams under his fingertips. The Italian finds himself allured by the presence, his head burying itself into Will's shoulder as he soaks it with tears.

Distantly, he hears Will's subtle and poorly concealed sniffles too, but it's okay because at least he knows a little of what he's lost.

**Nico is thirteen years old when he realises he's gay.** And to be completely honest, he's not all to sure on what exactly to do with that information.

He's a little bit taller now, his voice hinting at a deeper edge as his somewhat, newfound maturity helps him with this revelation. Nico always knew he preferred boys, and he was pretty late to grow out of the 'girls are icky' stage, but yet he had no idea that those were for _romanticised_ reasons.

It becomes more blatant as he spends more time with Will, mostly in the treehouse, but if not there than in school. Nico never really dug too deep in the subtle sparks of electrical surges he feels every time he makes a physical contact with the blond, he's been feeling them forever that it's just a norm. But now, with the talk of love and crushes wafting through the middle school hallways, Nico can't help but take a little self reflection of his own.

So yes, he was gay. Without a doubt. Nico most definitely hasn't felt like kissing a girl like all the other boys describe so he initially just presumes he's unlovable. However, then he'd turn to Will and his heart just fluctuates at the sight of him, and maybe, just maybe, he'd like to kiss him instead.

But still, even with knowing this, he doesn't know what to do with this information. One part of him urges himself to go tell Hades, because with as shut off as he has been these past two years, Nico — deep down — knows that his father still loves him. He's just grieving, and Nico understands because he still is too, it's just that some handle it better than others and unfortunately Hades was caught in startle on the less desirable end of the spectrum.

Yet he doesn't tell Hades first, but Nico's sure he will tell him one day; he even makes a mental note of it too, but no. Telling him first doesn't seem right. Not when the only person who's been completely by his side since he could remember lays right there, flat on his stomach, hoarding most of the blankets, with legs swaying in the air, his nose buried in a book.

Nico supposes he could just rip it off like a bandaid, the least painful way of coping with the possible negative outcome of this entire confession.

He hasn't thought this through, not at all, so he doesn't know what he's doing when he calls out his name. "Will?"

"Hmm?" Will responds, gaze lifting from the open page to meet Nico's and suddenly the Italian finds himself unable to breathe.

There's a gulp, and then another; it's probably then Will figures out there's something a little more serious going on here aside from the ridiculous conversations they often found themselves consumed in.

So Nico watches, in a little dread, as Will bookmarks his page and closes it on the cover. "What's up, Neeks?" Will asks with genuine care as pushes himself to sit up, legs crossed upon the heap of warm fabrics.

The sun from beyond the paneless window filters in; settles upon Will's head with an ephemeral glow, his golden hair casting like a angelic halo. For just a beat, Nico forgets what he was supposed to say (also forgets how to breathe) until he remembers abruptly and bites down to gnaw a little on his lip.

"Will I'm," he begins, and Nico is suddenly so tip to toe top filled with panic that he _almost_ chickens out, but he owes Will better than that, so he continues. If Will were to not accept him, then that's that; at least Nico would know he wouldn't have to waste another nine years on a boy who hates how Nico truly is.

"I'm... gay."

It's out there. Done. However now there's a thick scent of vulnerability brimming each and every plank of the treehouse, a shot of rejection aiming at him through every possible angle. There's so many things that could go wrong, and each thousand scenarios rush through Nico's mind in a matter of a few everlasting seconds.

Then he's doing that thing again, head ducked and chin almost pressing again his chest as his nimble fingers start to tug at the hem of pitch shirt. This one is relatively new, so there's no stray threads he can fiddle with but he still plays with the fabric as he prepares himself for the worst.

What he doesn't expect is the hand that extends out towards him, low enough so Nico can catch the motion with his gaze. The Italian stares at it for a short while, eyebrows knitted, and then glances up at Will, who's blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight.

"Hello gay, I'm William Solace," he greets and just like that there's a path of fire trailing his pale cheeks and Nico can feel like spilling red that follows it.

"I can't believe you just—"

"Also known as bisexual," Will chirps, his hand swiftly swooping down to grasp Nico's in a form shake.

The Italian feels a little light headed, numbly feeling the pull of the shake as his brain races to piece together what exactly just happened.

Soon enough though, there's a little smile that stretches across Nico's lips, the unrestrained laugh slipping past as he tosses his head back, chuckles from both parties filling the treehouse.

**Nico is fourteen years old when he has his first kiss.** But if it's anything at all, it's abhorrently unexpected.

And in spite of all desirable dreams and whimsical fantasies, it's not shared with Will.

Instead, it's with an ordinary hallway dweller that Nico doesn't even know the name of. Well, not until after that whole gesture.

He's minding his own business, nothing out of the ordinary, just nonchalantly leaning against his humble locker door, listening to Will ramble on and on about a totally bullshit pop quiz. Nico has always noticed that when Will gets super emotive about something, his hands and arms come into play an awful lot. They flatter around, flustered and incredulous, as if swatting away flies with a force full of rage. The Italian is well aware he looks quite ridiculous, but it's also adorable and that partnered with the non stop waffling of his musical voice, Nico is more than contempt with the whole rant.

He makes his own jibes into the conversation, something about: "Pop quizzes are supposed to be random." He doesn't exactly pay attention to what's going on around him. Usually, he's cautious (more cautious than this) but when he's with Will he doesn't find the need to be so guarded, he feels safe with the blond.

But even without the blond's solace, Nico doesn't think he could ever expect it. He doesn't know what the fuck is going on when there's an unforeseen tug on his wrist, finding him yanked around until there's a (100% not bargained for) kiss pressed smack dead against his lips.

Everything just freezes for a second, and to be honest Nico is too utterly stupefied to even do anything until the pressure is so suddenly alleviated he almost questions whether it had happened at all.

There's a crescendo of whoops and cheers and laughter from the crowd and all Nico really wants to do it to melt into a puddle inside his black Converse. But when he regains initiative, he darts deathly to face the douche for just snatched his first fucking kiss.

Call him a whimp, but that's a big deal to him, okay?

But the taller boy, clearly a grade or two above them, just grins with a display of overflowing mirth. Nico would let all of hell and beyond lose had he not been so caught in public, he knows he has to avoid the sanctions that just one more slip up may very well mean he'd say goodbye to Goode. However, it doesn't remotely calm him down when the hazel eyed boy ruffles his hair.

"Sorry, Di Angelo, it was a dare," as if that was a rational explanation.

As the guy saunters away, Nico is so, _so_ ready to pounce, but the only thing that hold him back is the restraint of tanned, shaking arms forcing him still.

**Nico is sixteen years old when he first kisses Will.** And this one... this one is as perfect as it gets.

Despite the unsuspected chill of the midsummer night brings, Nico and Will still stay stubborn towards tradition, bundling themselves in the usual duvet they tug along whenever this date marks the calendar. The day that the structure they laid in was made and finalised, the place where hours were spent and where all of their friendship blossomed.

Nico lays his head against Will's broad shoulder, finding it much more comfy than the perfectly capable yet disregarded pillow. But seeming as the blond doesn't appear to particularly mind, the Italian takes advantage of what he can, a glowing hue of comfort washing over his body.

Will's brought his laptop up, nothing unusual but in special consideration for this night he triple checks the charge before they move into the treehouse. The monitor plays 101 Dalmatians, the first movie they've ever watched together, distinctly remembering how much little Nico begged alongside his best friend for his Ma' to let them borrow the iPad for the night. Still, it's a film that they both thoroughly enjoy; especially with one another.

But Cruella De Vil only becomes so intriguing after so many times that he finds himself only half absorbing his attention on the quality, animation film, the other 50% all too aware of his thundering heart against his ribs.

One would assume that after three years: a simple crush would die down. That's the way it usually worked, you'd eventually get over someone and simply move on to something else or nothing at all. Nico _knew_ that was how it worked, so why was it that he found himself here? Sleepily watching a Disney film against his best friend's shoulder in a childhood treehouse, that he questions how unexpectedly he's somehow fallen in love with William Solace?

And he grows increasingly conscious of this with every minute of every hour; is all too aware that it's only a matter of time until his heart bursts. Until he slips up, cutting himself deep into a shard of broken glass scattered hazardously across this platonic relationship that Nico's stayed all too careful with avoiding. But he's only human, and he can only take so much and he should probably turn away before things become too messy, but how can he when Will's pull is so warm?

He steals a glimpse, just because he knows Will would look perfect, his azure eyes probably shimmering with specks of shining silver from the leaking moonlight pouring into the treehouse. Nico plays it off as a subtle shift of general body positioning, and he likes to think that he's quite stealthy at doing so, but as his glance swipes over at Will face, he's clearly mistaken.

Because William Solace's sparkling eyes are caught in exactly the same act.

Maybe Nico would've pulled away, but the moment is as tense as a bow string with just one mere twist from either being perfectly tuned or completely snapping. He doesn't expect it, when Will whispers from so close that Nico can feel his minty breath fanning his face. Doesn't expect the question at all.

"Can I kiss you?" is what Will asks.

"Yes," is what Nico replies.

Just like that, there's the perfect pressure of searing lips gliding over one another. And this moment, Nico thinks, eyes drifting shut, this moment couldn't of ever been more perfect.

**Nico is seventeen years old when he loses his virginity.** And this, unlike most things in his life, is completely planned and prepared for.

It's during heated, intimate moments where there's a pair of hands slipping into the waistband of jeans or there's an when there's sometimes an exchange of handjobs that leads to the discussion. And though they've known each other since they were four years old, Nico appreciates that Will is taking everything slow; appreciates that the serious yet understandably awkward conversations of what the next step could be actually take place.

This day has been decided on since a week, and Nico's climbing the ladder feeling stupid with the clamminess accumulating at his palms. Maybe what was stupid was the choice of setting being the treehouse, but considering that they barely even spent time in their own rooms it just feels natural. (That and they would least likely get caught in here.)

When he enters he finds Will sitting there with a wry smile against his lips.

"You got the stuff?" Nico asks mainly because he's trying to be casual and not awkward, two things he's clearly incapable of.

The blond empties out his pocket as he replies with, "Yeah."

Neither of them have ever done anything like this before, and despite Nico's very obvious nervousness there's also sparks of exhilaration as he admires his boyfriend. Honestly, hand upon heart, there is no one Nico trusts more in the world but Will, and he's more than certain that the blond will take care of him.

When they meet in a fury of lips it all falls into gear, hands exploring planes of skin, everything feeling so natural. It only grows more hungry from there, and neither of them have to worry about pushing boundaries this time.

And as Nico finds himself tangled with his boyfriend's bare limbs by the end of it, he's elatedly overwhelmed.

It was better than perfect.

**Nico is nineteen years old when he has to leave for college.** With some exponential luck correlating with the Italian's life, he finds himself on the same campus as his boyfriend. Maybe there was a god up there, and maybe, he just might of liked Nico a little, it's just a shame he decided to show his apparent omnibenevolence so late. Nonetheless, Nico is still immensely grateful.

Will really wasn't surprised about Nico's passion for forensic pathology, anyone who's known the Italian for two minutes wouldn't be surprised. There was always this morbid sense of curiosity that drives him onto what he aspires to be, and if that curiosity just so happens to be investigating the dead, well that's just fucking that then, isn't it?

Perhaps the hardest part is the temporary goodbye to what he leaves behind. Nico and his father have grown much closer through the years, time serving as building blocks to the remains of a familiar relationship they used to share. It's not the same, it never will be, but still, Nico is more than satisfied with the care Hades has provided over him.

But then there's some sentimental things that are impossible to take along, because trust Nico when he says he'd pack up the treehouse in the blink of an eye if he can sit it in his suitcase and bring it to the six hour away college he's heading. Knowing that he'll have to wait a year or so before he can return to it and spend cherished times with the blond in there once more is a pretty devastating blow, but he's confident they'll be a next time and that's what drives him.

But as he looks in defeat at the scatter of moving boxes shifted into his dorm, he knows it's time for a fresh start.

**Nico is twenty one years old when he says goodbye to the treehouse once and for all.** They’re remorseful as they stand there (though heads ducked down for space) inside the hollow shell.

"This used to be a lot bigger than I remembered," Will voices, and it's exactly what Nico thinks too. But then again, it's been more than two years since anyone of them had seen the place and now they're slapped with reminisce and nostalgia.

Nico's hand wraps around Will's warm one, fingers intertwining lovingly as he peers around for what would be a final time. "I've never actually considered that I'd ever have to say goodbye," he admits, not even ashamed how much condolence is laced in his voice, "I always thought it would always be here, that we can return whenever we want, y'know?"

There's a hum of agreement followed by silence. As a child, Nico was always aware of how much he adored the place, it was like their go to safe haven; they spent more time in here than anywhere else together. Only now does he realise the attachment he has to it, and suddenly he's rueful of the years he's wasted without returning. Especially when it will no longer be their’s to access as Will's parents have decided on selling the house.

"Well, I guess we were supposed to outgrow it one day," the blond states and Nico let's out a little snort.

"Yeah," he agrees, "We were way too obsessed with this place, all the things we did in here..."

Will squeezes his hand, "I still remember the day we made this place, and the day you cut yourself on that damn branch. I saved the day though, I patched you right up."

"My hero," Nico deadpans, fond with memory, as he places his hand against the worn wood with a pointed knife, "We first kissed in here, it's so cliché now that I think about it." He lifts the knife against one of the planks, digging it in and scraping out letters, letting the saw dust blow through the draft and dirty his clothes.

"I still remember that fucking asshole that took you first kiss," as he takes the knife from Nico, carving engravings of his own.

Nico found himself breathing out a laugh in spite of that day, "That guy was a twat."

"Oh well, doesn't top anything we did in here though," Will snarks, all too satisfied when he achieves the blush he desired from his boyfriend.

"I still can't believe we first did it in here," he mumbles, "And to think that was four years ago."

As Will pulls away from the wall, knife safely in hand they admire their work, and Nico felt stupid for having to keep his eyes from watering as he stares at their mark.

_Nico and Will's._

"The next people who move here better not claim it as their own," Nico states bitterly.

Will brings him into a kiss, a humbled smile across his cheeks, "Well, it's time for us to move on, Neeks."


End file.
